The Healing
by Jynxed Keyboard
Summary: Pre-game; Celestial Plain. On Waka, Amaterasu, and rejuvenation. Also features a cranky Yomigami.


**The Healing**

Disclaimer: Okami belongs to Capcom and the now disbanded Clover Studios.

Still kinda excited for Okamiden, though I'm trying to stay far away from spoilers, haha. Have some pre-game fanon to make up for it!

Also, please review! Nice comments are great motivators. :)

...

Her hands seized his face, fingers pressing firmly into his gold hairline, the curve of his clenched jaw and bright red ears. Tilting to the left, to the right, her piercing jet-black eyes examined his features with the clarity of a precise calligrapher, an expert artist without inhibitions. In the high courts of the moon tribe, such familiarity was unheard of. To be within six inches of a female (an ethereal, mysterious and captivating goddess at that) was practically blasphemy. Trying to explain such to the deity hovering mere centimeters from his stammering lips, however, was proving near impossible.

Those inky eyes crinkled at the edges as she tilted her head in sync with his, pure white locks of hair sliding over her shoulder. That look had the power to move the heavens, make stars, raise galestorms, freeze enemies in their tracks—or a bumbling, injured Moon Tribe prophet in the middle of shying away from her steady hands. Up, up, she coaxed his slender, pale throat into view with her critical gaze sharp on an anomaly in that smooth skin. Like prey cornered in the dark depths of the Forest of Confusion, he stuttered and shifted—"Ah—"until a long, deep wound was unveiled from long blond strands and the shadow of his strong jaw.

Once the goddess found what she was looking for, the tightness of her grasp loosened, becoming instead a comforting presence upon each cherry-red cheek. Her eyes lost their intense edge, warming to the usual care of a compassionate sun goddess. _That _look had the power to make people bow before her, and a Moon Tribe prophet to relax in a single exhale. The tight muscles in his neck finally gave way, and though the cut throbbed, he knew he was in safe hands. Quite literally, the warmth in those palms was reassuring. Her smile, those rouged lips, was brief but oh-so-kind, and she was leaning forward once more. Propriety be damned.

Or perhaps he was more a man of the Moon Tribe than he initially thought. He faltered as her nose bumped into his jaw line, and he was about to yelp out a half-baked excuse (I'm fine, my goddess, just bleeding and aching all over your clean floors and it's not that I don't appreciate you, I just don't think I'm ready for _this)_ but the heavy smell of rice paper and wet ink filled the air and he sucked in an unsteady breath. _You will be fine, Ushiwaka, _a smooth woman's voice did not so much fill the air as it surrounded his brain, low and sweet with just a hint of feral pride. All of a sudden, her head and hands moved over his shoulders and something soft and moist ran over his neck and coated his injuries, the smell of ink stronger than before as she tucked her head in the crook of his neck. _Perfectly fine. _As soon as the voice rings in his ears the scent vanishes without a trace, and the luminescent goddess stands a proper distance from his bedside, those warm hands folded demurely.

He works his jaw in a vain attempt to thank—question—greet her, as his mind stumbles between courtesy and sheer curiosity, the doors slide open and a wizened form steps into the room. Yomigami, the dragon god of restoration, shoots a sharp gaze toward the blushing Moon Tribe boy and the blasé sun goddess. "Amaterasu-omikami." The tone of his growling voice is only half as disapproving as it should be. "It seems our patient is already fixed up, yet Marco came to me in hysterics, demanding that I see to him immediately. Man of the Moon Tribe, did you not suffer grave wounds while piloting the Arc of Yamato to our homeland? We have gathered that your crew encountered turbulence along the way."

The blond man blinked for one long moment before he shook his head slightly, seeming to come out of a daze. His hands wavered as he reached for his neck, his arms, tried in vain to feel the ache in his legs… all was gone, mysteriously vanished from his body. The only explanation was the silent woman springing flowers from her shifting feet as she glanced between god and prophet.

"It would seem…" Ushiwaka began softly, his smile weak. "That I owe my life to the sun goddess. She healed me before I ruined your glorious palace with my blood." His head bowed, the prophet paused before he found the bravery to speak once more. "Amaterasu-omikami, I would like to thank you sincerely. However, my troubles are far from over. And yours are just beginning.

"_I foresee a mountain neither man nor god can move, a battle eight against one, where all will fall as the sun sets on the summer solstice. No longer will the days last long, no longer will the plains be coated in a golden glow… the earth will imprison a force that must fight in darkness to even hope for the return of sunlight."_

He hadn't meant to say that. He stared at her in shocked silence, flickering ashamedly even as she held her gaze steady. It was almost as if she had expected a prophecy… As Yomigami was just about to open his mouth to protest at the impudence of such words, how dare he doubt Amaterasu, origin of all that is good and mother to us all, the pure sun goddess stepped forward with a benign smile. "I had heard from Kaguya-hime that you possessed a gift." Her voice very clearly matched the one in his mind, as strange as that sounded. He shifted uncomfortably. "She was not wrong.

"I have known for many years now that the evil threatening the now extinct Moon Tribe would eventually move onto the Celestial Plain. Hearing it from your lips now only solidifies the truth. I have the resolve to battle whatever may come our way, for it is my sworn duty to protect the ones I love. Mountains, beasts or gods—no matter who dares rise against my brush, I will cut them down.

"Ushiwaka of the Moon Tribe, you have proven your resilience. You have survived the attack on the Moon Tribe and I am eternally sorry for your loss, but your presence in the Celestial Court would be very much appreciated. I will need all the help I can get if I wish to fight in darkness." Her eyes twinkled, and he reveled in the serenity of the largest amount of words he'd ever heard from the usually silent deity.

"Amaterasu-omikami, surely you do not want such a suspicious character roaming around our heavenly lands? He could be the sole reason for our sisters and brothers of the moon being destroyed by all those demons for all you know, and the audacity with which he prophesizes your doom…!" Yomigami flared dangerously as he stared down at the prophet.

"I have the resolve to do whatever it takes," Amaterasu repeated stubbornly. Ebony orbs glared hotly back, as she continued, "I feel that this man will be an irreplaceable asset to our defense. Let him stay. He is worth using your technique to heal his wounds. _He is strong._"

Those words would haunt him for centuries after, but Ushiwaka of that time stood up defiantly from the hospital bed, moving forward to stand by Amaterasu's side. "I too will do whatever it takes." For a goddess who would heal a potential enemy simply because he was in pain, for a woman whose beauty outshone every star in the night sky, for Amaterasu, he would fight for strangers he barely knew and follow her to the ends of the earth.

Two hundred years would pass in Nippon, and Waka would not disregard his promise as he saw a wolf with a brand new rosary swirling around faint red markings, pointedly ignoring a bouncing green Poncle on her muzzle, racing about Agata Forest. He is strong. He will make her remember how to fight in darkness, for even a sliver of hope for the sunlight to return.


End file.
